Burned
by Novoux
Summary: But no, he was the captain of the Enterprise and therefore if he wants to walk through a desert barefoot because his shoes are burnt from an acid puddle, then so be it. No, Spock, it doesn't matter what logic you say because he's Jim Kirk and he doesn't listen to anyone.


Well damn.

This is going to hurt in the morning. More than a hangover, actually.

Because Bones doesn't have hypos for blisters and so he's going to be stuck with some nasty blisters the size of golf balls on his feet for a while.

Damn it. Damn the fact he's being an idiot and doesn't listen to Spock. Of course traipsing through the desert on some alien planet isn't a good idea and exceptionally so while barefoot.

But no, he was _the_ captain of the _Enterprise_ and therefore if he wants to walk through a desert barefoot because his shoes are burnt from an acid puddle, then so be it. No, Spock, it doesn't matter what logic you say because he's Jim Kirk and he doesn't listen to anyone. Nor will he ask Spock to carry him because that's embarrassing and he'd rather walk on his hands. So he suffers in silence and is rewarded with achingly burnt feet.

"Captain?" Spock turns to face Jim who has fallen behind to observe Jim sitting in the hot sand and glaring at the browned soles of his feet. Thick, red sores already beginning to develop and he inwardly cringes at the thought.

"I'm coming, give me a moment." He knows he can't get up. This is the first time he's stopped in their walk and the last time. The sand beneath him burns his clothing and there's only a thin layer of protective gear to keep him from getting the rest of his body burned.

"Captain, it appears that you are injured." Spock states with the Vulcan equivalent of a scornful expression, which is nothing. "The protective gear on your feet is unable to protect your skin for long periods of time combined with extreme temperatures and developed severe burns on your feet." No shit, pointy-eared Sherlock.

"Yeah, it appears I have." He replies dryly. His foul mood is slowly becoming bitter and Spock isn't helping. Jim knows he doesn't have the right to be moody towards Spock but his feet are killing him and he's dying of shame. Really doesn't want to ask for help because of his own stupidity.

"I believe we will be able to reach the transport parameters at a faster rate if I carry you, Captain. You are currently injured and unable to continue walking." Matter-of-fact tone and Spock is approaching as Jim pulls his injured feet close to his body.

"No, I'll be fine. Just give me a minute, would you?" His feet are hurting and he swears they're bleeding at this point. The soles of his feet are burned a dark brown and covered with the promise of ugly blisters. It looks like he just walked through Chernobyl barefoot. Ugh, ew.

Spock remains unconvinced with no evidence of even a twitch in response. "It is impossible to give you any amount of time. Such an act is illogical." Cheeky emotionless twit. Well, the half-Vulcan equivalent.

Suddenly Spock is kneeling beside him and Jim realizes this with a surprised flinch. "I must insist that I carry you. It is the only way you will prevent further damage to your skin."

Jim's cheeks are burning and he swears it's the heat of two suns getting to him. "No, Spock, I'm fine. I was just…" Spock is giving him an interrogating look and he knows Spock's already made up his mind.

"Captain," Spock's staring directly into his eyes. Jim squirms under the intensity of the gaze. "You are injured and it is my duty to prevent you from injuring yourself. I have failed you by allowing you to become injured. Allow me to carry out my duties and I will see to it that I receive the proper punishment."

For God's sake, must he play the bleeding heart just to make Jim cooperate? Well, it works, sadly.

"No, no, Spock. I was being an idiot and took off my shoes. Just…" The words are on his tongue but he can't say it. The heat's getting to him, he concludes. So he just motions to himself weakly with a pathetic flap of his hand. He can't meet Spock's eyes when he's suddenly lifted off of the ground with one arm under his knees and another on his back.

Dear God, kill him now. This is so embarrassing and painfully humiliating. And his cheeks are burning probably because he's sunburnt and not because he's embarrassed. In Spock's words, it would be illogical to be embarrassed.

Jim chides himself for acting like a tween right now. He's not twelve, damn it. He's the captain of a starship: the best starship the Federation has to offer and here he is acting like a twelve-year-old with a crush. But he doesn't have a crush. No, he's not a teenage girl who just realized that boys are not gross and the horror of puberty. He's a captain of a starship, twenty-three years old, and happens to think his first officer is very attractive.

Wait. What? No, that's not right. He shouldn't be even thinking about things like that. No captain should have any relations with any of their crew, especially their first officer, outside of work. Even if Spock is an emotionless ice cube and just happens to be hot as hell, in better terms.

No. No. No. That's wrong. Damn it Jim, what the hell is wrong with you? Just because your first officer is attractive doesn't mean you can—

Spock is silent as always while Jim fights with himself mentally. But when Jim actually admits Spock is attractive, he feels Spock's grip on him tighten for the briefest of seconds. And then after the heat of the argument with himself is abruptly over, he then realizes that Spock could probably hear every single one of his thoughts.

Oh good Lord have mercy. Bones would definitely praise him from his evolution of cursing when it tied in religion.

Kill him now; kill him while he's dying of shame right now. Please spare him the utter stupidity and agony of shame. How can he forget that Spock is a touch telepath right _now_ of all times? Sweet Jesus he's in so much trouble. Jim's thanking his lucky stars that Spock hasn't dropped him and let him roast in the sand for the inappropriate thoughts he just hapened to be thinking.

"It is illogical to suggest I would 'drop' you. Your thoughts are of your creation and therefore I hold no intent of causing you harm." Spock doesn't mention that the moment he touched Jim he felt a rush of foreign emotions flood his mind. Nor does he mention that he does try to block out Jim's thoughts, there's some part of him keeping them there. And Jim's thoughts are practically screaming at him anyway; no matter how hard he tries to ignore it he can still hear them.

Jim doesn't say anything. Spock feels the captain's presence leave his mind and doesn't comment. For now they're both content to say absolutely nothing. And the silence that prevails is really awkward. Like first kiss awkward. And the awkwardness after that.

When they reach the transporter's beam up zone, Jim squirms and drops from Spock's hold with a grunt of pain. He nearly falls, but Spock's hand is on his shoulder and keeps him stable. And that brief contact informs him quite cheerfully that Jim is berating himself heavily.

The half Vulcan part of Spock tells him to let Jim do as he pleases and not to interfere because he knows the captain's status comparable to an anus among those he is acquainted with. It's illogical, it informs him, to attempt any stance of communication which will only firmly remind Spock that the captain will "fuck anything that moves" in Doctor McCoy's words. But the half human part wants Spock to talk to Jim. Not the captain, but Jim. Say something, it whispers, don't let him think you're angry with him. Don't lose the chance you have now just because of what others think—

Illogical, is all he can think. He's not one for emotions. Nor is he one for allowing his captain to face his own revelations or fantasies (forty-six percent positive that they're simply the product of an unrestrained mind) that involve Spock. It's for the captain's well-being, he concludes.

"Captain Kirk to _Enterprise_, do you read me?" Kirk has pulled out his comm and presses the communication button.

"_Enterprise to Captain Kirk. I hear ya." _Scotty's voice answers. Kirk gives a sigh of relief.

"Mr. Spock and I are ready to go. Beam us up." Spock notes the slight tone difference Jim says his name with. But he doesn't say anything as white light surrounds them with the feeling of his atoms being broken down.

It only takes seconds to appear on the transporter pad of the Enterprise. The captain leans heavily on Spock because he's past being ashamed and decides to take help when it's offered. And his feet really hurt too.

"Welcome back!" Mr. Scott greets. But his cheerful expression dampens when he sees Kirk. "What's gotten into ya, captain?"

"The captain requires a doctor, Lieutenant Scott." Spock reports before Jim opens his mouth to speak. The engineer nods and pages Dr. McCoy with his comm while Spock helps Jim to a nearby chair.

"I can take care of myself." Jim snaps when Spock tries to move a chair to him. Spock stands back and allows Jim to lower himself onto the chair, slightly surprised by the captain's sudden change in behavior. Perhaps it is because he allowed his thoughts to be seen by his first officer earlier? It really wasn't his fault, or Spock's. Or maybe it was?

Dr. McCoy is grumbling and clutching a first aid kit when he comes into view. "Where are you bleeding now, Jim?"

"Well hello to you too." The captain greets cheerfully. "And I'm not bleeding, for once." Not sure if that's entirely true. Best not to get Bones even more stressed, isn't it?

Bones rolls his eyes. "Tell me what you've managed to do or I'll hypo your ass so you see tomorrow today." His eyes inspect Jim with a kind of exasperation specially reserved for Jim.

Jim holds up his hands in mock surrender. "Whoa there, Bones. I was just bein' polite." Spock notices Jim tucking his injured feet behind the legs of the chair. Fascinating.

"You'd call an alligator a lizard." Bones grumbles and pulls out his tricorder to perform a physical scan while Jim fidgets. A beeping noise makes his scowl deepen. "Your vitals are out of whack from walking around in a damn desert." What did Bones expect, in all honesty? Bones is a stubborn high-matinence asshole and a grumpy old fart.

"Doctor, the captain was injured after attempting to walk without proper protective gear in the desert. I take full responsibility for allowing the captain to be hurt—" Spock starts and Bones whips his head to Jim.

"You did what?" He snaps at the captain. "I knew you were a moron, but apparently your brain's emptier than a winter rain barrel." Bones finishes the tricorder's scan and isn't happy by the scowl lines etching themselves into his skin. Jim opens his mouth to say something but closes it when McCoy shoots him a look.

"You're comin' with me," Dr. McCoy gives a pointed glare to Jim and then to Spock. "And you're comin' with. It's bad enough you're stubborn just because you're a Vulcan, but I'm making sure both of you are fine."

Spock complies silently but Jim finds it himself to complain. "Bones, I didn't mean to—"

"I don't care, Jim. You've got second and third degree burns all over your skin, and your feet are damaged severely. You'll be lucky if I can fix all the damage." He helps the captain out of the chair much to Jim's protests. Spock follows them dutifully, staying away from the captain in his guilt.

In the sickbay, Jim is placed upon a biobed and immediately connected to an IV. Bones is calling for different types of medicines while getting Jim to cooperate.

"I'm fine, Bones! What's with you freaking out over me?" Jim complains as he removes his shirt. The southern doctor doesn't spare him a glance and jabs a hypo into the captain's carotid artery.

"Ow, stop it!" Jim hisses and his free hand goes to his neck. With his shirt off, he can see the damage of the two suns on his newly burned skin. The outer layer of his skin is an ugly yellow-grey color that weeps with serum and pus. Hastily he looks away when Bones bends his arm to examine the burns.

"Shit, kid." Bones grabs a container of lotion and dips his fingers into the pine-scented cream. "This is gonna hurt; bear with me." And Jim doesn't have time to react when suddenly the dull ache of his skin comes to life in a rush of blazing pain.

"Ow, ow!" Jim jerks roughly while Bones slathers lotion on his burnt arms. The doctor mutters something and tightens his grip which elicits more pain. "Bones, stop!"

Bones gives him a pitying look. "Well, I can't help you 'cause you've already got the strongest painkiller I've got. Unless if you want to be knocked out." The pleading look on Jim's face tells him what he needs to know, and then the doctor is up and grabbing for a mild sedative.

Jim squirms uncomfortably when the hypo pierces the sensitive skin of his throat, but his tensed muscles begin to relax when the sedative begins to work.

"Hurts…" His last words are slurred with eyelids drooping. Bones' eyes flick to the captain's and watches as they droop and the body stills.

"Unbelievable." Bones mutters to himself as he slathers on more cream. Skin peels from Jim's body like he's actually skinning the captain but the smell of burnt flesh combined with festering infection is making him feel mildly disgusted. Okay, it's gross. But he's a doctor, damn it, not a drama queen.

"Doctor," The pointy-eared hobgoblin comes out of nowhere. Wasn't he supposed to be in a biobed?

"What the hell are you doing out of a biobed, pointy?" Bones grumbles and makes a face as he peels another layer of dead skin off of Jim's arm. This is going to take hours, he can tell. "I gave Christine direct orders to keep you in bed. I thought you pointy-eared hobgoblins liked following the rules."

The growl in his voice notifies Spock that the doctor is not in a good mood. Logically he would be in a foul mood, for he was treating the captain. And by the tone of his voice, all was not well.

Spock ignores the insult. "I am only burned to the first degree, Doctor. Nurse Chapel has allowed me to be discharged as she has concluded I am in need of no further care. However, I assume the captain is not as fortunate as I."

Bones sighs and refuses to look up from his work. It's dirty, disgusting, and the smell makes him sick, but he'd rather do this than look at the hobgoblin. "Bless your little heart. You notice that Jim's not the brightest bulb in the tanning bed but you can't realize I'm busy?"

The flippant answer is meant to be insulting using euphemisms that correlate with his upbringing in the American southwest, but Spock is not fazed. "I am aware you are busy, doctor. I simply inquired to know the condition of our captain."

Bones sighs and it sounds more like a huff. "You just don't give up, do you? Damn green-blooded hobgoblin." He mutters under his breath and Spock is ninety-seven percent positive the doctor knows Spock can hear him.

"If I tell you what the hell Jim's gotten into now, will you leave me alone?" Another yellow-grey patch of skin flakes off of Jim's chest. Ugh, ew. And then there's serum oozing through the cracks of burnt flesh mixed with pus. If Jim doesn't die from the pain, Bones is sure he'll kill him first. And Spock can probably give him some random damn statistic of the 'likelihood of the captain's survival'.

"I will return to duty if that is what you require of me, Doctor." Dear God, this green-blooded bastard's hopeless.

"Jim's got second degree burns all over his body. He probably won't be out of here for a couple of hours. I don't know how deep the burns are down to a point, but I know he's gonna be spending some quality time with the dermal regenerator." Bones makes a face when a large flake of dead skin falls away to reveal blood both dried and fresh covering more of the burn. "I want you going straight to your room, pointy-eared bastard. You're not going on duty until I clear you."

Spock is silent for a moment. But his eyebrow is raised at the use of profanity and there's a new tense silence that blankets the room.

"I understand, Doctor McCoy. However, I request you to refrain from using vulgar terms to insult me. My parents were married when I was conceived; therefore your insult is factually incorrect. I do not find myself deserving of your insults pertaining to my biology. I cannot change my heritage, Doctor."

Bones is actually impressed with himself. The pointy-eared bastard sounds like he's going to blow a bright green fuse at any moment and he's pretty sure that Spock is the only half-human on this ship who can sound angry without actually sounding angry. Wait, that doesn't make sense. Oh, forget it. And what's with him and taking his jokes seriously? That pointy-eared bastard needs a sense of humor shoved up his ass like that ten foot pole that's been there.

"It's a joke, you hobgoblin." Bones sighs and can't believe he has to explain this. What the hell did he do to deserve this? "I know you can't change your biology and your parents were married. But is it too hard for you to realize I insult everyone? I don't actually…" He shakes his head, slathering more ointment on Jim's other arm. There's throbbing in his temples that's starting to irritate him and the hobgoblin's making it worse.

There's just no explaining himself to the damn green-blooded bastard. And so Bones is giving up while he can still win.

Spock must live to make things awkward, because right now he's being a Godforsaken asshole by kicking this dead horse of a conversation. "I apologize for inferring incorrectly, Doctor. I have not analyzed—"

"Good God, man," Bones sighs condescendingly with the thought that he's too old for this. "Just drop it. And go rest. Leave me to deal with this moron, would you?"

The half-Vulcan raises an eyebrow that just _dares_ Bones to throw something at him. But he says nothing and simply nods before turning on his heels and leaving the sickbay.

Bones looks to the now empty doorway and then back to Jim. The heart monitor beeps with each contraction to let the doctor know he's still breathing.

And then Bones sighs, because he's feeling himself aging years each time Jim comes into his sickbay.

* * *

When he's awake, Jim feels the dull burn of a nasty sunburn all over his body. His feet are throbbing, but numb. And when his hearing comes back to him shortly before he opens his eyes, the steady and irritating beep of a heart monitor reminds him he's in the sickbay.

"Captain, it is good to see you are awake." Spock suddenly materializes beside the biobed and Jim hears his heart rate spike on the monitor.

"Trying to scare me to death, are you?" He teases. As per usual, Spock doesn't take the bait. Instead, it looks like he's going to say something but he doesn't. Almost like he's waiting for Jim to…

Oh.

Shit.

His brain cruelly reminds him of what transpired on the desert planet from earlier. Oh God, he really doesn't want to deal with this right now.

"Captain, I believe it is logical to discuss the events that occurred on Arus VI." Gee, Spock, wonderful conversation starter. Perfect timing too. Why don't you just wrap it all up with a big pretty bow—why the hell did he want to talk about it anyway? Hasn't Jim been embarrassed enough for one lifetime or is this the prelude to Hell?

"Religious purgatory is not required, Captain. I fail to understand the significance of its relation to our conversation." Spock's side note made Jim realize that he just voiced his thoughts. That's not a first.

"Oh, sorry." And the façade of being the Enterprise captain goes down the drain. "Uh, I was hoping we wouldn't have to…"

Spock notices the captain's obvious discomfort. "I was previously unaware that you expressed discomfort in speaking of what has transpired on Arus VI. If you do not want to continue this conversation, I will not speak of it again." The heart monitor's beeping is rising.

"No, no. It's fine, Spock. I'm sorry for my…thoughts. I was being a moron and didn't realize you could hear me. If you want to be transferred to a different shift, or anything that will let you forgive me so you don't hold a grudge against me, let me know." He sounds despondent.

Spock honestly does not expect this. An apology from the captain? Illogical; Vulcans do not hold "grudges". "Captain, you are aware that Vulcans do not possess the emotional capability of feeling ill intent or resentment toward others."

Jim snorts and the uncomfortable expression on his face fades away. "Of course. How could I have forgotten?" But he doesn't mention Vulcan. That's something neither of them want to discuss.

Spock relaxes somewhat and the atmosphere of tension between them seems to lessen. He weaves through his brain to combine something that will be logical and a good "conversation starter" in the words of the captain, so to speak. But on an emotional level, he doesn't know how to approach this.

"So, I'm sorry for freaking you out, or whatever you want to call it." Jim starts. The human part of Spock is partially grateful for this. But also disappointed. "I was more or less hallucinating from the heat getting to my brain and frying it to a crisp. So what I was thinking probably doesn't fit the bill for logic in your book."

The human terms are lost to him. However, he doesn't ask. "I am aware that you were suffering from the effects of a heatstroke, Captain. I do not hold you accountable to your thoughts and actions for I should have not allowed your thoughts to enter my mind."

Jim rolls his eyes. "Too late for 'should've' and 'would've'. And don't beat yourself up over this. It's my fault, and I'm leaving it at that. I don't want to offend you or anything."

Spock assesses the situation. Then, he picks his next words carefully. "I understand." There's something he wants to ask but the Vulcan part of him stamps down the idea. _No, you cannot ask that._

For the numerous appellations given to Jim due to his reputation, he defies them quite easily. "We're not working, so call me Jim. And you look like something's bugging you."

"Bugging…?" Spock and his dramatic eyebrows. Jim shakes his head.

"Oh come on. Y'know, like bothering you."

Spock is hesitant, which is a first. "Due to the conditions presented on Arus VI, I conclude that your thoughts were caused by the heatstroke you suffered on the planet. However, I calculate the percentage that this theory is factual at eighty-three percent."

Jim's head spins. So many words, all for one question. "So you think that there's a chance I wasn't exactly thinking because of how hot it was."

Spock nods. "Affirmative. May I inquire your exact answer?" Enough with the fancy words, for God's sake.

Just then Bones comes in and saves the day. Jim makes a mental note to buy him some scotch when they reach the nearest space station.

"Welcome back to the land o' the living, Goldilocks." Jim snickers something about Bones using the wrong fairytale character. "And no, I don't give a damn. I've been running all over hell's half acre trying to fix you up. You're lucky I didn't have to amputate your feet from the amount of damage you've done to them."

Jim looks down at his bandaged feet and tries to wiggle his toes. Instead of feeling his toes, a stab of pain shoots up his leg and he swears under his breath. Bones smiles wickedly.

"Serves you right, boy. Now don't screw up any of the progress I've made of putting you back together or I'll let you be permanently disfigured." Jim gives a mock expression of horror before sticking his tongue out when he sees Bones turn to the medicine cabinet.

"Which means no moving around, no walking, no being an idiot, well; you can try for that one, and resting. You've lost enough layers of skin for me to issue an emergency dermal regeneration surgery in order to save your tanned hide. Not only that, but you've gone and destroyed the skin and nerves in your feet." Suddenly an evil smile creeps onto Bones' face and Jim shifts uncomfortably. Or, tries to.

"Since you decided to be a moron and take off your shoes in the goddamn _desert_," Bones turns back to Jim with a container of the pine-scented cream and several hypos. "I wasn't able to treat all of the burns on your feet. So now you're stuck with some blisters, and you get to drain them yourself. I'll be making sure you do before you're discharged from my sickbay."

Jim makes a face that people over twenty should never make. "Gross, Bones." He pouts. That face of his isn't getting any prettier. "Why are you so cruel to me?"

The doctor just smiles in a way that makes Jim think he finds this _hilarious_.

"You're the corn-fed farm boy here, Jimbo. Do the math." Smug bastard. "And the pointy-eared hobgoblin tried to take the blame for you. But I can call bullshit when I smell it."

A moan of complaint comes from the captain. "But Booones—"

"Don't wanna hear it. You decided to be an idiot, and now you can live with the consequences." Bones finds this utterly hilarious because he's a grumpy old asshole, thank you very much.

"My shoes were eaten by acid and I had no other choice!" Jim defends himself but he's already lost this battle. He just doesn't want to go down without a fight.

"You're so full of shit your eyes are brown." Bones mutters just loud enough for the captain to scowl at him. When his skin isn't on fire and covered with bandages, Jim's going to strange Bones. Murder him. And there will be nothing to tie him to it. Deck twenty-two has power transfer conduits. Could be useful, but deck nine with the botany lab and its weird plants would probably have something man-eating.

"The captain's complaint is valid, Doctor." Spock speaks up. The bantering between the doctor and captain is unusual, he concludes. And Dr. McCoy knows not to speak to the captain in such a condescending manner, but does so anyway. Fascinating. "While exploring the surface of the planet the captain stepped into a body of water with acidic properties. He was therefore unable to use proper equipment due to this inconvenience."

Bones jabs a hypo into Jim's neck when he's not looking. Jim hisses, slapping the skin. "An inconvenience? I still don't care. He's a moron and he can deal with it himself like a big boy."

Jim is pouting and hisses a curse when two more needles pinch his neck. "What the hell are you doing? Can't you see that I'm in enough pain already?"

"Those are painkillers, mind you." Bones rolls his eyes. "And I decided to be nice enough to let you be numb for the worst of the pain. You should be on your knees and thanking me, you ingrate."

The captain says nothing and his behavior is characteristic to a petulant child. Joanna could do better, honestly. And she's _six_. So the doctor lets Jim throw his tantrum while he's still conscious.

"Don't do anything stupid." Bones says as he heads out. "And no leaving your biobed. Your skin's fresher than a spring chick and just as delicate. Also, I want the green-blooded hobgoblin in bed by the next time I'm in here."

"Thanks, Mom!" Jim suddenly grins. Bones narrows his eyes and grumbles to himself before leaving.

"I do not suggest provoking the doctor's anger in your current condition, Captain." Spock brings him back to the conversation. Jim rolls his eyes and mockingly scoffs.

"Oh, pardon me. Can't I have a little fun with him? He stabs me with hypos whenever he sees me!" Jim unconsciously rubs his neck where the injection sites still sting.

"Perhaps it is because you avoid mandatory medical procedures which incur the wrath of Doctor McCoy." What happened to Spock being on his side?

"Captain," The earlier conversation comes to mind. "You did not answer my previous question."

Jim's good spirits fade. "Oh, right. Forgot about that."

Spock eyes him quizzically. "You do not appear content with continuing the discussion of this topic. Perhaps it is best if I—"

"No," Jim waves a hand and bites back a grimace. "I've held it off long enough. I'm surprised you're still here, but that's getting off topic."

Spock is silent while Jim pauses to form a coherent sentence. "So, you're right, about uhm…your percentage rate thing and whatnot." He sighs in frustration. Why is this so hard?

Oh yeah, because he doesn't want to lose his best friend because of a stupid crush. Jim swallows and decides to get it over with. It's now or never; too late to go back now.

"I think you're hot, attractive, or whatever word you know of that can define you. Okay, hate me now or whatever, I said it." There goes the weight sitting on his chest. But it's no better than the newest one that weighs down heavier when Spock says nothing.

Shit, he's gone and fucked it up now. Spock's probably thinking he's "emotionally compromised" or some other bullshit that he'll go with because he's a coward. Right now his mind's a mess and his thoughts aren't even making any sense either.

Jim can't really deal with silence. He hates it: especially when he's the one who caused it like it's some sort of crippling disease. Never could take it when he was a kid. Something to do with his mother leaving him with Frank. No, no, he's not going there right now.

So, the best way to end the brief silence is to shift his weight to his left arm (which he will regret later) and kiss his first officer. That should give a reaction. Yeah, a perfectly sane and natural way to get a response from an emotional rock.

And a reaction it did give. One moment he's kissing Spock who's as stiff as a statue and the next he's being kissed back right before he pulls away because his left arm's hurting like a bitch. There was something there, though. Now there's emptiness niggling at the back of his mind and his lips feel colder.

"Ow, ow, damn." He quickly shifts to pull his left arm up and then clutch the throbbing limb. And then there's more silence. It slowly dawns on him that he's done something incredibly stupid and now the self-depreciation can feed off of this humiliation.

Oh shit. Why did he do this? Why didn't he take the hint and just stop? Bones is right: he is a corn-fed moron—not that he would ever admit that.

He can't look at his first officer. No, he's just made the biggest mistake yet and Spock's sitting there in his uncomfortably crushing silence and Jim really wants to evaporate into thin air or something.

"Are you well, Captain?" Spock doesn't sound any different. Great, that's just what he needs.

"Yeah, 'm fine." He flexes the delicate fingers of his hand and feels the skin strain with the movement underneath the layers of gauze. Bad idea, then.

And of course, there's more weighty silence that hangs over them. Story of his life, damn it.

"Captain," Jim doesn't even want to look at Spock. That elephant in the room sitting in the occupied corner of sickbay has just turned into a blue whale. "It appears you are unsettled. I apologize if my silence has disquieted you."

Jim shakes his head with a false smile clinging to his lips. "Don't worry about it. Sorry for being an idiot." Spock doesn't like the tone he uses as it's self-depreciating and Jim's in enough pain as is.

"There is no logical reason to disrespect yourself, Captain. You have acted accordingly in order to convey your position." What's he trying to say now? Jim's head is starting to spin from the heavy word use his brain can't balance out.

"What're you trying to tell me now?" His eyes are starting to droop when he feels the second dose of pain medications kick in. The aching in his arm is starting to die down but it still hurts in the form of a dull throb.

"Logically it would be preferable to express my thoughts in the form of a mind meld." Jim then allows himself to glance at the half-Vulcan. Spock has his hands loosely clasped together, but he raises one. "May I?" The rest of the question forms in Jim's brain when he realizes what Spock is trying to do. A sleepy nod is his answer and then there are fingers pressing to his face and quiet mumbling before the world around him fades.

After this he's feeling something trying to intrude in his mind. It's a gentle pressure whispering behind a veil of haze over his thoughts and he cautiously watches as it pushes through and a the sensation of an extra limb growing out of his head. The scene of the desert of Arus VI rises to life and he is unexpectedly immersed in the memory, watching from a different standpoint while his past self is stumbling through the burning sand. Jim's wondering what Spock's trying to convey because the feeling of an extra limb flares up again and he's not entirely sure what he's supposed to be seeing. The past Jim stumbles once again and his feet are beginning to burn painfully at this point.

Jim listens to the small word play between himself and Spock, knowing it was hardly a conversation. But when he recalls the burning in his cheeks and the embarrassment, there is a phantom sensation that plays the exact emotions he experienced before. He really doesn't want to watch himself be painfully embarrassed again or feel the humiliation so he pushes himself away from the memory and watches it flicker and fade. Spock is the ghost that tugs him back, urging him to bring back the memory with a persuading pull.

So he watches again after recalling the memory, but this time he's not just in his mind. Now, there's another mind connected to his which he remembers as the "extra limb" sprouting from his brain but the feeling is more of having Spock actually stand right next to him instead of just being some nagging presence. The desert continues on with memory Jim reluctantly giving in to allowing his first officer to carry him with the last shreds of his dignity crumbling to pieces. The phantom of embarrassment returns and the memory begins to flicker, but Spock urges to _keep watching, listen._

His thoughts from Arus IV are loud and bouncing around in his head when he hears them the second time. Jim briefly wonders if this is what Spock had to deal with and feels that the answer is somehow yes, but then his attention focuses on Spock while memory Jim keeps ranting to himself. Focusing away from his own thoughts, Jim feels Spock's mind against his and he experiences tiny dots of confusion quickly stamped away by Vulcan logic, followed by little tatters of something shredded by the big and scary Vulcan and Jim knows these experiences aren't his. Well, they're small, compact, and pretty well hidden. But they are there, and is that hope? No, no, that's the pain killers.

Before he has any more time to comprehend what he's just experienced, Jim watches the memory fade away and there's a sudden wind in his ears. Spock's being pulled away from him and he almost reaches out to grab the presence that retreats out of his mind. Reality comes rushing back to the conscious world where it feels like he just woke up from a coma. Spock is still beside him and his eyes are the only things that aren't solid like the rest of him.

"Well then," Jim starts. Spock's gaze is at his clasped hands but it soon meets his. Maybe it's just Jim, but he swears there's something different in those dark irises.

"You have experienced my thoughts; it is illogical to continue berating yourself, Captain." Cryptic as always and Jim smiles faintly.

"Sorry. It's just," Jim notices the slight change in the stoic expression, "different. In a good way, though."

"I am indeterminate as to whether you define your observations in a pleasant context or in negative connotation." Well, someone's impatient. For a Vulcan, that is.

"Oh come on, you know what I mean." The old mischievous smile is back and he bats his eyes flirtatiously. "Or should I give an example?"

The corner of his first officer's lip twitches up at the smallest degree possible. "Perhaps it would be a plausible theory."

* * *

_Dedicated to my utter stupidity of burning my feet on a hot road and ending up with painful blisters._

_Oh, and thank you for reading. Until next time, of course._


End file.
